


Bast, a Bowler and Bucking for a Promotion

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s02e17 The Stackhouse Filibuster, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-19
Updated: 2006-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-30 11:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15095954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Donna is proud of catching the Stackhouse thing.  She ponders the wise and powerful Bast, thinks about wearing leather pants and contemplates a promotion.





	Bast, a Bowler and Bucking for a Promotion

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

 

TITLE: Our Two Consciences: Bast, a Bowler, and  
Bucking for a Promotion (1/1)  
AUTHOR: Laurel A. -- I love  
feedback!  
SPOILERS: Everything up to, and including, The  
Stackhouse Filibuster.  
RATING: PG  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them; don't sue me.  
ARCHIVE: Archive anyplace, just let me know.  
SUMMARY: Donna is proud of catching the Stackhouse  
thing. She ponders the wise and powerful Bast, thinks  
about wearing leather pants, and contemplates a  
promotion.  
AUTHORS NOTE: This one really should be read AFTER  
Michelle's "Filibusters, Falls, and Feline Avengers."  
But, it's okay the other way around too. Thanks to  
Michelle for doing a bad, bad thing, which turned out  
to be good thing, and for seeing me through my bout of  
writer's block!

This is the next installment in the Josh/Donna POV  
series Our Two Consciences by Michelle Hoffmann and  
myself:

Roles by Laurel A.  
Masks by Michelle H.  
Donna Moss Talks About Sex and Joey Lucas by Laurel A.  
Josh Lyman Talks About Strategy by Michelle H.  
Late At Night In The Soft Warm Glow by Laurel A.  
Perfect Clarity by Michelle H.  
I Confess by Laurel A.  
Static Electricity by Michelle H.  
Change, Gratitude, and the Heartbreak Turtles by  
Laurel A.  
Transformation by Michelle H.

I did a good thing today. In spite of the fact that I  
will likely forever be teased about raising my hand in  
the Oval Office, I did a good thing.

Josh was right about what he told Charlie when he  
hired him. There is no other feeling in the world  
like the one you get when something you do or say in  
the White House has an impact; and that feeling  
doesn't go away.

I was so proud watching Senator Stackhouse yield for a  
question after we'd rallied the Senatorial  
grandfathers. Not only did I do a good thing for  
Senator Stackhouse, for autistic children, and for the  
President, I also did a good thing for myself.

I've worked past quiet, shy, and "nice," transitioning  
quite well into Quirky-Assistant. And although I am  
not sure when it happened, I've recently started to  
get ideas about being promoted to a spot on the Senior  
Staff after re-election. No more Deputy Deputy Chief  
of Staff for me.  
Powerful-Confident-Smart-Loyal-Woman-and-You-All-Know-It,  
here I come.

With a promotion I could feel free to not raise my  
hand in the Oval Office, I could influence policy, I  
could actually sit down during Senior Staff meetings  
instead of standing and taking notes for Josh and then  
arguing with him later about what he thought he heard  
and what my notes say. Some other poor soul will be  
doing that for him.

And while I am discussing matters of national and  
international import with the President, that person  
will have the pleasure of knowing exactly how to order  
Josh's burnt hamburger lunches and of knowing that if  
it's a Tuesday he'll need a clean shirt for his  
meeting on the Hill because he probably spent the  
night here.

They will be anticipating his research needs, watching  
out for his sensitive system, and instinctively  
waiting for him in the rotunda entrance first thing in  
the morning to hand off the notes for the policy  
meeting he's already late for. Wait, I don't know if  
I like the idea of someone else doing all that for  
him. And there's no way they'd be in tune with him  
the way I am. Maybe I like being the poor soul that  
knows him better than anyone else; maybe I like being  
intimately attuned to Josh Lyman.

I know Leo and the President were wondering what I was  
doing in the Oval Office hanging back behind CJ. The  
President even asked if I needed something; and we all  
knew what he meant. He wanted to know if I was there  
to relay some message from Josh or if I needed some  
piece of information to carry back to Josh or one of  
the other staffers. But, CJ spoke up for me.

Her explanation to the President that I was there  
because I had picked up on the Stackhouse thing wasn't  
just her giving me credit for my catch. I think it  
was also an acknowledgement of how hard she had  
discovered it is, as a woman, to break into the boys  
club at the White House. She was sticking up for the  
sisterhood.

Citing our similar criminal minds, CJ told me today  
that she'd thought of me first when she realized that  
the curse of Bast was upon her. I took it as a  
compliment because I have really started to enjoy this  
conspiratorial Girl's Thing we've got going. Plus, I  
think I like the idea of cultivating the image of  
having an illicit side.

I was impressed that CJ had done all that research on  
Bast and it made me think about how all of us in the  
White House share a love of arcane knowledge. Okay,  
maybe some of us more than others. And some of us  
like to share that information a bit more than the  
next guy as well � which is why I was raising my hand  
in the Oval Office in the first place.

Josh is definitely one of those who derives a  
considerable amount of pleasure in sharing his  
understanding of the esoteric. And when he explains  
things to me as if I am his pupil, I let him. I  
protest a bit at first and pretend not to listen, just  
to keep up appearances you understand, but darn if it  
isn't cute how he goes on anyway. And I figure I can  
learn a little something in the process.

I freely admit that can dish it out just as well, if  
not better, than he can. Spouting the obscure and  
trivial while loudly admonishing the other for doing  
so is a tried and true part of our banter. Maybe it's  
a pride thing we've got going, not wanting to admit to  
the other one that we actually do listen.

So, while everyone was absorbed in their e-mails to  
family members, TV monitors in the background showing  
Stackhouse hoarsely reading David Copperfield, I went  
in search of some arcane knowledge to add to my  
collection. Being a bit of a cat person, and always  
open to the mystical powers of the goddesses, I was  
curious about Bast.

Turns out, Bast has alabaster skin too. Okay, so the  
description really reads, "glowing skin" but it's  
close enough. Bast is also sometimes shown as a  
light-skinned European girl with long blonde hair and  
bright blue eyes. And, one of her most ancient  
monikers, "Pasch," is where the modern English word  
"passion" comes from. That Bast is one cool goddess.

With Stackhouse yielding to Senator Grissom and the  
rest of the grandfathers, Josh and I are now sitting  
in his office sharing a beer. To cap off a pretty  
amazing day, I decide to re-pay Josh for sharing the  
details of Senatorial conduct by letting him in on  
some of my recently gathered facts on the ancient and  
powerful Bast.

"Bast was often portrayed as either a sitting cat or a  
cat-headed goddess. In the latter portrayal, she held  
either a sistrum, an ankh, or a papyrus wand in her  
hand."

"You mean paw," Josh sarcastically counters.

"Josh, pay attention," I admonish, "Bast holds those  
things when she's in her cat-headed goddess aspect.  
Goddesses have hands, Josh. She was known as the  
protector of the Pharaoh and as an avenger."

I unwisely take a swig of beer, allowing Josh to chime  
in, "A what?"

"An avenger, Josh."

Josh replies with his typical 14-year-old boy  
mentality, "Is that anything like a Caped Crusader?"

As much as I want to giggle at the thought of a cat in  
tights and a cape, I decide to play along with him a  
bit, "No, Josh, it's more like Steed and Mrs. Peel."

I grin at my own cleverness, as well as at the thought  
of Josh in a black bowler hat telling me that we're  
needed. And darn it if I wouldn't look good myself in  
Mrs. Peel's black leather pants.

Breaking me out of my thoughts, Josh demands that I  
give him the beer, so I continue on about Bast, lest  
my Steed and Mrs. Peel fantasies get out of hand.

"Bast is connected with music, sensuality, fertility,  
ecstasy, the arts, the moon, and hemp," I tell him,  
handing over our beer.

Again Josh's 14-year-old mentality shines through as  
he says, "Hemp?" And even though I am facing away  
from him, I can tell he's raising his eyebrows,  
wrinkling up his forehead, and I am sure the smirk is  
starting to play about his lips.

I plow on, affirming that I did indeed say the word  
hemp, and continue, "Her worship began around 3200  
BCE, Josh."

I am pretty sure that whatever Josh's level of  
interest in ancient goddesses was, it has deteriorated  
over the last few minutes, but I continue to pelt him  
with information anyway, until the phone rings.

Josh answers it, pauses for a second, hangs up the  
receiver, turns to me and says, "Mrs. Peel, we're  
needed."

Well, I'll be man from U.N.C.L.E. Wonder where I can  
pick up a pair of those leather pants.

I recover quickly giving him my best  
you-think-you-are-so-cute-but-you-really-aren't look  
and say, "If you think I'm going to call you Steed,  
you're out of your mind."

Out in the hall we see CJ and Carol, and Josh begins  
to tease CJ about the curse of Bast, using the  
information I just told him as ammunition.

He's got that mischievous smirk on his face and I  
can't help smiling a bit myself, knowing that at the  
end of the day, we really do listen to each other.

  


End file.
